


Deep Down

by tigersbride



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Pining Dean, Post-Season/Series 12, Self-Esteem Issues, Supportive Sam, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 09:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigersbride/pseuds/tigersbride
Summary: Deep down, you’ve probably always known. Deep down, that stupid fucking skip of your heart when he walks into a room betrays everything you thought you ever knew.You should probably explain yourself. But you won’t.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a two part story that has been playing on my mind while I've been thinking about the s13 premiere coming up. I don't normally write in second person but I felt like it gave me a real chance to explore Dean's emotions and the way he talks and thinks. It's probably complete crap but hey. 
> 
> In other news I'll be posting a sequel to Breathe in my Hollywood series this week so stay tuned if you're even remotely interested!

So yeah, its not like you hadn’t been a bit off with him over the last couple weeks. 

But the trouble, though, was that every time you see him looking so goddamned fucking sad about your latest sassy comment your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest. You didn’t know quite _why_ you were having to be such an asshole, recently. At least, you tell yourself you don’t. 

Deep down though, that’s another story. Deep down, you’ve probably always known. Deep down, that stupid fucking skip of your heart when he walks into a room betrays everything you thought you ever knew. 

You should probably explain yourself. But you won’t.

This whole stupid fucking drama started weeks ago, although Sammy would probably insist that you and him began this dance more like a decade ago. But _this_ , this current thing? The thing that made you hurt so fucking much? That started when he died. 

It was the image of it that still turned your stomach now. Sometimes you’d still wake in the dead of night, sweating and panting, because your helpful mind has replayed for you that horrible moment, a dagger materialising out of nowhere, a portal to some other dimension that’s trapped the devil and your mom, too. It wasn’t even the loss of your mom that kept you up at night. That you’d dealt with for years and you’d deal with again — it was a love-hate relationship anyway — but it was how his face glowed with the light of his grace as it burned up, how his mouth hung open in surprise and pain and the chasm in his chest grew and shone. 

It was how he fell to the ground, the thud of his lifeless body as it hit the earth below it.

But worst, was the sight of those wings, burnt into the soil around him, clipped, tattered, sparse. You’d seen them a few times over the years. That first time, in the barn, the very first time he’d appeared for you — he’d possessed your every thought ever since — they’d been so magnificent. Huge, feathered, powerful. Not the battered remains they were the night he died. It was a reminder of all the times you’d failed him. 

After he’d fallen you’d knelt at his side. Your body had shook with disbelief, because he’d always been there, and now he wasn’t. You’d cried for what? An hour or more? Clutching at his hand as the heat radiated out of him. Wishing you had more time. Wishing you had another chance. 

It had barely even registered when Sammy returned to you — you’d hardly noticed that he’d gone inside looking for Jack in the first place — but of course, because why would anything else happen with your luck, Jack had zapped out at first opportunity and you were left at worse than square one, your mom gone, Crowley gone, your angel, gone. 

Sammy had spent the next hour gently suggesting you leave, that surely that huge wave of energy would have alerted any monster in a thousand mile radius that might be interested in joining team nephilim. You knew he was right, and that you probably needed to get out of there, but you’d refused to leave his side for so long, in case you got that miracle you prayed for, and Chuck fixed your failure this one last time. 

But he didn’t, of course. He was wherever the hell he was fixing his own messes with Amara. Why should he be there for you, anyway? You’ve always solved your own problems. 

This one, though, you couldn’t fix. 

You hadn’t spoken at all since you’d gasped his name out. You were stunned into silence. But you did manage to pull his dead weight into your lap and lift him — with difficulty — into the backseat of the Impala. You wouldn’t leave him behind. Couldn’t. 

And even when you’d got back to the bunker, you’d insisted on bearing his weight alone. You carried him through the halls of your home and laid him down on the bed you wished he’d just asked to call his own, and when Sam left the room you cried again, because he still wasn’t waking up and you couldn’t bring yourself to accept that he was gone. 

You’d told him then, though. You’d whispered the words you never thought you’d say against his temple as you pressed a kiss against his skin, right before you held in more tears and left the room in search of something to numb the pain. Right before you accepted you’d fucked up and he wasn’t coming back. 

By the time that your prayers were answered you’d cleared half a bottle of whiskey and your head was fuzzy, your pain dull, your stomach sick. The bunker had shook with a huge tremor, and a noise of the highest pitch screamed out through your ears, leaving you clutching desperately at your head. 

You knew that sound. It was his real voice. 

You’d ran, legs kicking out of your chair and sprinting down the corridors to his resting place. You’d crashed into the door and it had careened open, and on the bed two glowing eyes fixed on you, a sinister gaze deliberating your threat. A second passed where you stood watching in shock, but Jack just glared your way before he snapped his fingers, and when he’d disappeared, Castiel sat up, choking in air with difficulty as he clutched at his chest, hands groping for the angel blade that was no longer piercing his skin. 

The angel had stared, wide eyed and scared, at you while you gawped at him in disbelief. Sammy had caught up by the time you rushed forward and threw your arms around him, and Cas had clutched back at you like he was trying to ground himself, breaths heavy and laboured, limbs shaking as much as yours in shock. 

“I died.” He’d said, when you’d remembered yourself and pulled away enough to see his eyes. 

You’d just nodded. 

From behind you, you could hear Sam laughing in relief, counting his lucky stars for this miracle. You were over the fucking moon, ecstatic to be able to feel him, with warm blood pulsing through his veins as he flexed his fingers in your hand, but you could feel something was wrong, you knew it wasn’t the same. 

“I’m human.” He’d said, and once again you’d nodded. 

And since then you’d been an ass. Since that moment where you’d held his hand and looked into his scared eyes and told him it didn’t matter, you’d done nothing but make him feel like it did matter. 

You knew you were an asshole. You knew you didn’t deserve his forgiveness for this one. You knew that you were making him feel validated in those horrible concerns he’d had before, like you only wanted him around because he was useful. You knew that the last time he’d been human you’d let him down and kicked him out — for good reason but that wasn’t the point — and this time you’d let him live here but you’d kicked him out emotionally. 

You’d told yourself you didn’t know quite _why_ you were being such an asshole. 

Deep down, you knew it was because you were in love. 

They say that love hurts, and you know that they’re right. You’ve been through some shit in your lifetime; you’ve been beaten, ripped to shreds, literally tortured in hell, but you’d go through any of it again to save that complete nightmare of losing him again. 

You didn’t know when you’d fallen so deep. You didn’t know if it was as far back as the barn, if it was when he rebelled for you, if it was purgatory, if it was when he gave his army up for you, but whenever it was you’d fallen hard, and sometimes that love was all that kept you going through the day. You two had danced for many years, a string of fuckups and betrayals that stung and burned and ate away at your self respect and self worth — which hadn’t been particularly strong to begin with after your upbringing — but at the same time bolstered your heart and made you feel all fucking gooey inside. 

It had taken you a long time to figure out what that feeling was, because you’d never felt it before. It was different, and that was terrifying. It wasn’t carnal, wasn’t sexual and desperate, although yeah, he was fucking hot and you’d got off to the thought of him more times than you’d admit in your darker moments, but it was deep and meaningful and all encompassing. You didn’t just love Castiel. You didn’t just want him. You were head over fucking heels in love with him. 

But you weren’t an idiot, either. You knew he was a dude, or at least, kind of a dude. He was a celestial wavelength that currently had a dick so, in your book, that made him a dude. And hell yeah, that in itself was something of an issue for you, because well, you’d never felt _like that_ about a dude before. You could appreciate an attractive man — anyone else seen Dr Sexy? — but you’d never wanted to, do the do, with another guy. You knew Sammy would be fine with it but it kinda felt like betraying your father’s memory. The other issue, of course, was that Cas had never shown interest in other guys, either. It was all very well being in love with the angel but if he didn’t feel the same it was all for nothing, anyway. 

Not to mention that horrible pit of despair you had in your stomach. He was worthy of someone so much _better_ than you. He deserved someone kind, brave, strong, someone _good_. 

And the other issue, of course, was that even if by some miracle Castiel felt the same, you just couldn’t do that again. You couldn’t take it. There’s no way you’d survive that pain a second time, if he fucked up or you fucked up and you lost him again. Nothing could describe that absolute agony that you’d felt as you’d watched his lifeless eyes and thought that you’d never see them shine again. 

You hadn’t wanted to be such a jerk to him. You hadn’t wanted to validate his own feelings of worthlessness. All you’d wanted was to get a little distance, compose yourself, regroup. 

But when he’d been such a fucking idiot the other day, when he’d put himself in the firing line and taken a swipe from that ghost because of _your_ fuckup, you’d lost it. 

“For fuck’s sake, Castiel!” You’d screamed, in his face, while he’d winced and braced himself. “You can’t be such a liability!” 

You’d said more, words that cut and stung and things you didn’t really mean, but the new human had stood stock still and taken it like you were writing a new gospel, which hurt even more than if he’d fought you every step of the way. 

And then, when you were back at the bunker, while Cas was in the bathrooms, showering off and patching up a wound he probably could have done with help with, you were feuding in the war room, nursing a whiskey with your head in your hands. 

Sammy was there, silently judging you just like always, and you felt like telling him to fuck off, were pretty close to doing just that, until he opened his mouth. 

“How long have you been in love with Cas?” He asked innocently, like he wasn’t just addressing your deepest, darkest secret. 

Although your limbs shook a little and your heart raced for fear of being caught out, you managed to scoff. “What have you been drinking?” You asked your brother. “I want some of whatever you’re having.” 

Sam had rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as if he’d been expecting a stupid comment like that. “That’s why you’re being like this, right?” He said maturely. “You yelled at him today because you’re scared you’ll lose him again.” 

You just rolled your eyes right back at him. “Life isn’t always a chick flick, Sammy. I yelled at him because he was an idiot.” It wasn’t an outright lie, and you were too tired to deny the truth. 

Your stupid little brother could see straight through your bullshit and you knew it, but you almost didn’t care any more. You were pushing forty, now, and you’d saved the world more times than you could count. Even if you had started off some of those problems you’d fixed them. You just needed to track Jack down and it was a job well done. You had more important things to worry about than whether your brother knew about your crush. Even if it went pretty far beyond that by definition.

Sammy had stared at you as if hoping you’d grow a pair and actually use your words, but clearly he was mistaken, so when you ignored him in favour of sipping your whiskey, he eventually slipped away while it burned in your throat. 

Flash forward a few weeks, and after you’d had a particularly successful hunt where Cas had _actually listened for once_ and you’d all come out of it scratch free, you’d decided to celebrate with a beer or three at the bar near the bunker. 

It was two months since Cas died, and all you’d done since that night was be an ass to him. You were just trying to protect yourself, trying to bubblewrap your heart to break the next fall. Apart from to push him out of the way once or twice on a case, you’re not sure you’d touched since you hugged him when Jack brought him back. You wanted to, though, when you saw him in that light blue shirt Sam had ordered online to a PO box for him, and those tight jeans that showed off an ass you didn’t realise he was hiding. 

This was where the problems started.

And the problems only escalated from there. You’d all had a fair few drinks, and you were cheerful and kinda happy, laughing and joking, more than recently anyway.

You’d gone to use the bathrooms at some point, dragged your ass into a cubicle in the shady bathroom because the urinal was half hanging off of the wall. You’d tried to ignore the sound of two people fucking in the cubicle next to you while you’d pissed, because you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d got any and the noises were kinda gross. 

When you came back out, your brother was leaning back against the bar. He’d done something with his hair and it was sleeker than the usual fluffy mass. Next to him stood the ex-angel, a smile on his lips and a blush on his cheeks. He was fidgeting with his fingers, and you didn’t know why but you could see he looked almost nervous. It took you a while to figure it out, took longer than it should have to realise that the broad guy in the white shirt with dark blonde hair was trying to score, with _Cas_ no less. It took longer to realise that Cas was into it. 

With the revelation your anger flared, and you stormed over to them with the rage of a tornado, pushing yourself into the conversation and standing with your shoulder just in front of Castiel’s. 

“He’s not interested.” You said, with more force than was probably required. The guy who was trying to seduce Cas startled at the intrusion, not looking quite so big or tough as he had from the other side of the room when you were staring him down with anger. You felt Cas bristle irritably behind you, could see Sam eyeing you carefully in your peripheral, and you watched as the guy’s gaze dropped to your hands, as if searching for a ring. Because that’s what normal people did, wasn’t it, fall in love and get married. The thought had never even been a pipe dream for you. 

“Sorry.” The guy apologised as he held his hands up. “I didn’t know he was spoken for.” 

You didn’t bother correcting him as he slowly slipped away, and although when you turned back to face the music, Cas was pouting, he didn’t correct him either. 

“You do realise what that guy wanted?” You ask, because you have to know. You _have_ to know if there’s a chance Cas is into guys too. 

“I presume he wanted some carnal relations.” Castiel said irritably. But it was hard to take his words to heart when you were fighting off the urge to kiss him and find out if he wanted _carnal relations_ of his own _._

“Talk like a normal person.” You snapped, fighting your inward battle alone. “You’re human now. You can just say he wanted to fuck.” 

“Fine.” Castiel retorted, glaring at you. You wished you didn’t notice how fucking hot he looked when he was pissed off. This shirt was really doing it for you. “I presume he wanted to _fuck_.” 

And well, fuck. You had to swallow down a wave of arousal because the way he said that and how he spat it out at you was sending all of your blood in a southward direction. You had tight jeans on, it was fine. 

“Didn’t realise you were into dudes.” You chanced, for confirmation or just to get that conversation going, you’re not really sure at this point. “Or casual sex.” You added. 

Castiel shrugged, still pissed off, but nonchalant. “Gender is not of importance to me. If I think the person is attractive and they are good…” He let himself trail off, because he’d noticed by now how you were staring at his lips. You idiot. You swallowed and looked away. 

How many more beers you drank that night you didn’t know, but by the time you’d rolled back into the bunker — Sammy had driven — your head was spinning and your limbs felt pretty heavy. You were looking forward to getting on your own if you were honest, and bashing one out to the thought of a riled Castiel in that beautiful shirt. 

Cas retired immediately when you got in, and you weren’t keen on staying up and chatting with Sammy so you figured you’d be better off being alone too. 

It probably would’ve been a foolproof plan, had you not been drunk. You’d started stroking yourself lazily, not even bothering to undress, just pulling your jeans open and lifting your cock out. The trouble was, though, that the more you thought about him, the more you were reminded that he was just down the hall. The more you moved your hand, the more you wished it was his fingers wrapped around you. 

Your cock was back in your pants before you’d made the conscious decision. There was no brain behind this, this was all heart, all arousal and impulse. You’d knocked at his door and let yourself in before really waiting for a reply. He was getting undressed, and at the sight of his beautifully toned, bare chest, your cock twitched. He looked up at you in surprise, eyes widening as they skimmed down your body and landed on your crotch, where your jeans remained open and your hard cock was straining against the fabric of your boxers. 

“You wanted casual sex.” You said, without permission from your brain. You hadn’t thought this through _at all_. 

His expression slowly churned, calculating his options, but you didn’t have time for that. You needed him, and a small part of you was daring to hope he needed you. Rather than wait you crossed the distance between you and found the back of his neck with your hand, cupping the muscle and rubbing a circle with your thumb as you stared into his cautious eyes. 

It was Cas who made the next move. He edged closer, stopping just far enough away that you could escape if you freaked out, but you’d moved in to meet him. 

The kiss might not have created literal sparks. There probably weren’t fireworks going off all around you, but there might as well have been. Everywhere he touched you tingled. Everywhere he kissed erupted in gooseflesh. 

Cas had you backed up against the wall before you knew it, and it was with some horror but a lot of arousal that you realised he was taking charge. You’d never fucked a man but you knew what it meant, one of you had to hand over the reigns. It was a little alarming, but extremely arousing that Cas was taking control and you had to let him. 

And fuck, for someone that had hardly any experience, Cas was good at this. He had you pinned, he was stripping you off, his knee was pressed between your legs and when he thrust forward his hip rubbed your cock. His kisses were electric and you were groaning like a little bitch as he blew a hot breath over your ear. You wanted him more than you’d ever realised you did. 

When you were finally, _finally_ both naked, he thrust forward again, but he used a hand to keep your cocks together and you wailed at the combined friction while he grunted. 

Before long, he’d teased a finger between your legs. You were nervous, really fucking nervous, because the only time anyone had ever explored that side of sex you’d come really quickly, because it was all so new and the sensations so different. 

Cas pulled away before he returned to you, now clutching his Astroglide as he squirted a load on his fingers. Your gazes locked together as he gently teased your legs apart and pushed the first finger inside you, the stretch uncomfortable but not exactly painful. You were terrified, but he made you feel safe. 

It didn’t take as long as you thought it might, for him to work you open big enough to seat his cock. Perhaps the alcohol was enough of a relaxant. Perhaps you’d just wanted this for so fucking long it was the relief it was finally happening. 

When you were ready, comfortably taking three stretched out fingers and practically writhing with how much you wished he would quit avoiding your prostate, Cas lifted you, with angel-like strength he pulled you over to the bed and lay you down gently on your back. He lifted your legs back and you grabbed them to help him, pulling down on them so your ass was presented for his exclusive use. He swallowed as he looked at you, like he was nervous and considering backing out. You grabbed his hand and squeezed, just in case, before you nodded as your final permission. 

When Cas entered you it hurt and you winced, but you had to hold his arm still to stop him from backing out. It took a moment to adjust, but when you had you tried to push back on him, and he sunk the rest of the way inside with a gasp. Never before had you felt so full. 

For ten minutes or more Cas fucked into you expertly. You were writhing with pleasure and twitching with your need to come when your best friend grabbed your cock and started to jack you off in time with his thrusts. One thrust angled just right, and you hardly had time to warn him it snuck up on you so quickly. You let out another wail when he hit into you again, encouraged by your reaction, and by the time he’d got his rhythm going you were a mess, shivering out a release with your cock spurting come all over you and your mouth hanging slightly ajar. Cas came a few minutes later, rode out his own wave as he came deep inside you, burying himself one last time. 

You cuddled for a while, and it felt nice. That skin contact grounded you both, and the kiss that he left in your hair made you wonder if your love really was one sided. 

What neither of you had prepared for though, was how tired you were. Neither of you realised that you’d fallen asleep, neither woke up to prepare a contingency plan. 

“Cas?” A rap on the door the following morning had you stirring, and you peeled yourself away from the body in the bed next to you while you rubbed your eyes awake. 

“Cas have you seen Dean?” 

By the time it all came back to you, Castiel was staring at you in horror. He called out an excuse to Sam, lied and said he hadn’t seen you, but fuck, he’d seen you. The sheets were down by your ankles, your entire body on display. You were still a mess from last nights activities, your asshole aching, dried come around your ass and on your stomach. 

How the fuck were you getting out of this one? 


	2. Chapter 2

How long you just led there staring at him with wide, scared eyes, you’ll never know. At least a few minutes went past while both of you tried to figure out something to say, something to make this better, anything to make the pain go away and the awkwardness fade. 

You could see how scared he looked, too. You knew you weren’t alone in that. But you were scared that you’d fucked this up for good, scared that your heart would never quite feel the same when it beat while you looked at him. Scared that the pain like a dagger in your chest would be there forever. 

His fear was different. He was nervous, edgy. He was tiptoeing around you, scared you were about to bolt. 

Well, you didn’t want to disappoint. 

In what might have been your most cowardly move yet, you dragged up from the bed in one swift motion. You grabbed your boxers and pulled them over your legs, quickly following suit with your jeans and t-shirt. Couldn’t have Sammy catch you in a compromising situation now, could we? 

You didn’t bother to look behind you as you yanked the door open and fled. You didn’t need to. You could imagine the look of disappointment in his eyes. You’d seen it enough times before. 

You’d barely made it back to your room before you were hassled again. At first, when you’d heard the steps in the corridor you’d hoped in vain that he’d come after you, that even though you were the biggest coward in the world he might have strength enough for you both. But when you pulled the door open to the knock, you caught your brother’s eye, not Castiel’s. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Sam complained, and you were wracking your brains for a believable excuse but luckily he seemed not to give a fuck where you’d been, and he hurried on. “We’ve got a case.” 

On a normal day, ganking some out of control vampires might be your idea of a good time. Today, when all you could think about was what it felt like having the love of your goddamned life between your legs, it was just a major inconvenience. 

And your brother, your stupid, meddling little brother who one day you really would slap, insisted that he had backache, and requested to lie across the backseat, leaving said love of your life in shotgun with you shuffling uncomfortably at his side. 

He didn’t look your way even once, in the eleven hours that you drove straight. 

The worst part about your fear of flying was that when you had to go quite literally the entire way across the fucking country the stupidly long journey had to been cut into stages, and now that there were three of you in tow, you could hardly all sleep in the Impala like you and Sammy used to. 

If only your brother was done messing with you. You’d pulled up at a seedy looking motel, but there was a burger joint round back so you called it a win, and left the moose to pick up the keys while you ordered three cheeseburgers. You told the guy behind the counter to pick the greasiest one for your brother, because the rabbit food loving jerk had earned a taste of his own medicine with today’s interference. And it was only about to get worse.

When you got back to the car Sam was handing Castiel a key, and you held your hand out for your own, but none was forthcoming. 

“We bunking?” You asked Sam with a handful of fries in your mouth. 

Your brother just shook his head. “Only two rooms left. I’ll take the single alone, because of my back.” 

When you’d figured out what that meant you could have murdered him where you stood. Cas was looking at the floor with his arms folded, and Sam had this stupid smug smirk on his face you wanted to slap off. He was probably making it up, too. There were bound to be more than two rooms left in this dump. If only he knew what he was doing to you both. 

Just. Fucking. Great. 

You chanced a glance at Cas then, the first time since you’d ran off this morning. He could obviously feel your burning stare, because he slowly lifted his eyes to catch your own. On the outside, he looked stern and strong and overall he looked pissed off. But you knew him better than that. You could see the pain within his eyes, the wariness, the exhaustion. 

This overwhelming sense of guilt took you unawares when you saw it, because you’d been nothing but an ass to him and really you loved him so fucking much it hurt. Maybe you could try and treat him a little better. He deserved the fucking world. 

You chewed the inside of your lip, but you nodded with a light shrug, and when Cas handed you the key, fingers just brushing your own, you led the way to your room, Sam sneaking off in the opposite direction entirely. 

It was easier than you’d have imagined to pretend things were just like usual. You even managed to shoot him a little smile at one point which he returned with a confused eye. You got ready for bed just like normal, but when he emerged from the bathroom he narrowed his eyes, because you’d curled yourself up on the floor with a spare blanket over your body. 

“Get in the bed, Dean.” Cas said, his voice a low growl. He was exasperated and pissed off, but you were just trying to save both of you from pain. Sharing his bed again wouldn’t help. 

“I’m fine down here.” You replied, even though the carpet was thin and really you were very uncomfortable. Not that the mattress looked much better. 

“No, you’re not.” He complained, and the tone of his voice had your head snapping back to meet his eyes, because he sounded dangerously like he wanted to talk and _no way,_ you were _not_ ok with that right now. You held the warning in your eyes, but he defied you. “Nothing’s fine.”

And oh fucking hell. Why did he have to sound so broken? It was like he had no idea what he was doing to you, hearing that. All you wanted was to wrap him in your arms but it hurt so much to let him go again, would you even survive letting him go again? It was like he didn’t get that you needed to distance yourself from him. Like he had no idea how far you’d fallen and how desperately you needed to climb back up. 

It wasn’t the sight of his distraught expression that did it, and it hadn’t been the words. What made you snap was the sight of the tear that he hastily wiped away like it didn’t exist. You’d seen him hurt before, you’d seen him damaged, but almost never had you seen him cry. 

Times like these you wanted to kick yourself for your crappy coping mechanisms, because whether you were hurting or not you could be such an ass. It was so easy to forget the truth here, that you were letting him down. He needed you right now, needed his friend to guide him. Sure, he’d been human once before, but you’d abandoned him then just as you had now. He had so much to deal with that was new, these stronger emotions amongst them. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, but you couldn’t touch him. All you could do was give him a win, and climb up into his bed.

He lay down too, then, the skin on his shoulder just brushing the skin on yours. This bed was pretty small. You weren’t even sure that it counted as a double. 

You both lay there, staring up at the ceiling and unsure what to do. Cas wanted to talk and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to address the problems and you didn’t know what to say at any rate. The anger had gone, though, and the shame. You knew what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him how you felt, to make sure he knew how important he was and what he meant to you. You wanted to apologise for how shitty you’d been, and you wanted to give in to the pain because it hurt so much to keep fighting. 

Instead, you turned your head to look at him, trying to convey it all in your eyes. He met your gaze and for some reason, all you could do was smile. As he looked at you, you could see it, what an idiot you’d been. There was no way in hell that the ex-angel didn’t love you back. His lips curled gently to match your own, but his eyes still searched yours like he wanted confirmation that you’d forgiven him, for whatever he thought he’d done wrong. Sometime soon, you’d tell him he hadn’t done anything.

Although you knew how he felt, although it resonated through your bones and made your heart swell a little, you couldn’t say it, you still couldn’t admit to him what you wanted because you were still so scared to lose it. But with the realisation that you weren’t alone, you were done hiding it, too. Instead, you rolled onto your side, lifting your arm and inviting him against you. 

Cas eyed you warily, but he soon gave in, and nuzzled his head underneath your chin. You couldn’t tell him you loved him, but you tried to show it with the kiss you left in his hair. The sentiment was returned when he brushed his own lips against your chest. 

You could have stayed like that forever. You’d have happily died right here and now, with the most important person in the world against your chest. You did sleep, got your four hours and maybe a little beyond that, but dawn was only just breaking when your eyes opened, and you tightened your arm a little around the ex-angel’s middle. 

It was a long time until anything changed. You were peaceful, just holding his softly snoring frame and staring up at the ceiling. You had to choose, and you’d made your decision now. You knew it was the right one. You’d tasted him, and now you were addicted. No more running.

When he woke up, you had to say it, say those three words that he’d said only once before, because you couldn’t keep blaming your fear on your pain. You were scared to love him because of what it had done to you when he died. But you hadn’t stopped loving him, no matter how hard you’d tried, and you were hurting day by day without him anyway. Having him against you was bliss, and maybe it would be worth the risk. 

An hour or so later his breaths became shallow and his skin clammy. Your first thought was a dirty one, and you cocked your head to look down at his crotch but you couldn’t see anything incriminating. It was when he started to whimper that you realised he was having a nightmare, and you put your hand on his cheek, stroking softly as you called his name, easing him gently back into reality. 

Now awake, Cas panted, eyes flashing open to meet yours. 

“I died.” He said, an echo of two months ago. 

It hurt in your heart, but you nodded. “You did.” 

The ex-angel looked up at you, and for the first time in months or maybe even years you could see clarity. He finally understood, and his lips curled up in a smile as he accepted it, why you’d been acting like you had. You didn’t deserve someone so forgiving. 

He opened his mouth, but you lifted a finger to his lips. He deserved to hear you speak, he couldn’t be the only one to give and keep giving. 

“It hurt so bad to lose you.” You whispered, finger pulling back to sweep across his cheek. “I want this, but I can’t lose you again.” 

“You won’t.” He promised. 

You knew he couldn’t be sure, you knew that you could only try your best to keep him safe, but perhaps with each other’s love and support you’d be rational enough to succeed. You both needed this. You held his gaze for a long moment, but you cupped his cheek, and when you finally leant in he was beaming. 

His kiss was long, deep, and slow, and his taste was perfect. You never wanted it to end, but eventually it did, and when you pulled back he smiled broadly. 

“I love you.” He reminded you, and you frowned because you wanted to say it first, but your heart was racing with excitement all the same. 

“I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not that happy with this, it's short and cheesy, but it was in my head and giving me writer's block for my other story so it had to come out!


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